


Lost and Found

by DestielTheShipOfDreams



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Reality, Alternate Season/Series 13, Awesome Bobby Singer, BAMF Jo Harvelle, Dean is done pretending, Demons Are Assholes, Doom!world, Emotional Castiel, Emotional Dean, Grieving Dean, Happy Ending, Hunter Castiel, Hunters & Hunting, Jack does exist but he's just not in this story soz, Mentioned Asa Fox, Mentioned Ellen Harvelle, Mentioned Garth Fitzgerald IV - Freeform, Mentioned Gordon Walker, Mentioned Jo Harvelle/Gordon Walker, Minor Ellen Harvelle/Bobby Singer, Multi, Reunions, Sharing a Bed, Shower Sex, Supportive Sam, mentioned Lucifer, that's what I call it in my head lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-24
Updated: 2017-10-24
Packaged: 2019-01-22 11:35:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 9,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12480676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DestielTheShipOfDreams/pseuds/DestielTheShipOfDreams
Summary: What if the Castiel that Sam and Dean saw die was actually alternate Cas from the other world? What if their Cas is trapped on the other side, with Mary and the family that the boys have lost? What if Sam and Dean get through to that world to save their mother, and find more than they were expecting?Maybe Dean and Cas could even find their happy ending.This is named after S13E01 because it's kinda indirectly an alternate version of what's happened so far this season, but it was written before any of this season aired and only a few details were tweaked to fit this season. Technically, with a few more details changed, this fic could still happen :)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! I wrote this during hellatus and then forgot about it until now! So I changed a couple of things to link it into what's happened so far this season but there are some things that I left contradictory because this isn't a fic predicting what I think might happen, it's just a 'what if' and an 'I wish' :P  
> I LOVE JACK but he makes no appearance in this fic XD  
> Sorry if ten short chapters is a weird structure but that's what you're getting.

The boys duck and weave and skid into scant hiding places, trying to close in on the small band of mostly horned figures without being gunned down. The sky is heavy and bloodshot overhead, the wind cool and biting. Two pairs of desperate eyes are fixed on Mary Winchester where she struggles wildly in the grip of three demons, hands bound and a rag tied between her teeth.

 

“Mom-” Dean screams, his brother taking aim at his side. Sam manages to clip one of the demons holding Mary in the shoulder and she kicks out at the other two in quick succession, twisting free from her captors. Sam yells encouragement as she sprints towards her sons and Dean covers her, firing relentlessly at the three snarling creatures on her heels.

 

“Come on, come on, run!” Sam cries, reloading without looking. He downs the demon closest to his mother with his next shot, earning an approving exclamation from Dean. A second later, Dean almost takes out another one; he misses, but he gains his mother a foot or so of ground as her pursuer falters. Mary picks up speed, close enough that the boys can see how the determination in her eyes burns in the weak afternoon light.

 

She nears the rusted out car that her sons are crouching behind, but with an inhuman howl one of the two demons left chasing her throws himself through the air. He manages to tackle Mary violently to the ground, her head bouncing off of a rock and her body going limp. Sam groans out a denial and Dean stands up, face grim and set as he fires repeatedly at the demon that’s straddling his mother. He sends the horned man sprawling in the dust, but the first demon to go down has struggled back to her feet and is running back into the fray, face twisted and snarling beneath the bullet wound in her forehead. Dean dashes to meet her, throwing his gun aside and drawing an angel blade. The scuffle is brief. There’s a brutal satisfaction in Dean’s eyes as he drives the blade into the creature’s heart.

 

Sam is already sprinting to where the demon not recovering from having his guts shot out is straddling a dazed but resistant Mary, trying to get his knife out from his thigh holster. The monster’s teeth are bared, his skin grubby and his eyes feral. Sam knocks into him just as he raises his blade to strike, dragging him off of Mary and grappling with him. The knife is thrown into the dirt several feet away but the demon, strong and ruthless, gets Sam pinned just like he did with Mary.

 

The demon only lands one blow. Dean barrels in and stabs him in the neck, spraying a bruised and disgusted Sam with hot blood. Then it’s Dean’s turn to get tackled, the final demon left alive choking him with an arm around the neck. Sam yells his brother’s name, scrambles for the angel blade that’s fallen to the ground and throws himself on top of the creature attacking Dean. One quick slice later and the demon is gurgling helplessly in the dirt, throat cut. 

 

There’s a moment of silence after the enemy is defeated, broken only by the heavy breathing of both men and the weak, muffled gasping coming from Mary. Then the brothers leap into action, Dean shoving the corpse off of himself and Sam stumbling over to their mother’s side.

 

“Mom?” he says hoarsely, tugging at the gag in her mouth as he peers into her half-lidded eyes. She’s fighting to stay conscious, bleeding steadily from a wound on her temple. Her mop of golden hair is stained and matted from it, crusty from the dirt she’s been rolling around in. Dean appears on her other side, touching her shoulder with anxious eyes.

 

“You’re OK, Mom,” he whispers. “We found you. It’s gonna be OK.”

 

Sam manages to pull the gag from between his mother’s teeth and lets it drop to a loose loop around her neck. He cups her cheek, leaning down closer. “Mom? Can you hear us?”

 

Mary focuses blearily on her younger son. Her voice is barely there, a faint croak. “Sam…”

 

“Yeah, it’s me,” he encourages, patting her cheek firmly to keep her attention. “You hit your head. You’re gonna be OK though, huh? Had a lot worse than this.”

 

She smiles, half-closed eyes drifting over to her other son. “Dean. You’re both here. You came here…”

 

“Yeah, Mom, of course we came,” says Dean thickly. “One little magic portal ain’t about to stop the Winchester family.”

 

She nods, eyes closing. Dean frowns at Sam, but they both know that she’s survived far more extensive injuries than a blow to the head. Still, head wounds are worrisome. They have to move her somewhere safe.

 

It’s as they’re carrying her between them that she stirs once more, reaching out and gripping Dean’s forearm. She blinks groggily up him, her voice slurred but her gaze urgent through the fog. “Castiel…”

 

Dean falters, pain flashing across his face. He shakes his head, adjusting his grip on Mary, sharing a somber look with Sam. “No, Mom, he’s not here. You know that. Cas… Cas is gone.”

 

“No,” she sighs, eyes closing again. “Cas…”

 

And then she’s asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Bobby is enjoying a nice tipple of his highly secret stash of scotch when the knock comes at his door. He quickly shoves the little glass down between his mattress and the wall, cursing under his breath.

 

“Uh, come in.”

 

The younger hunter opens the door and pops her head around it cautiously. “Bobby? I got something to report.”

 

The grizzled older man inclines his head, hands folded on his belly and ankles crossed on the bed before him. “Alright, so report.”

 

The woman steps smartly into the room. “I just got back from a wide range patrol. Couple hours away, heading east, I spotted Mary Winchester.”

 

Bobby sits up straighter, squinting in interest. “As in alternate universe Mary Campbell?”

 

“Yep, the one who went rogue after we took her in. Looked like she was in trouble. Captured by demons. Trussed up like a birthday present, and I reckon I know who she was for. Reckon those demons were followers of Lucifer.”

 

Bobby rolls his eyes. “Oh, yeah, the reborn Messiah of the demon world… dunno why he’s so intent on recapturing one human, but who knows what goes through that lunatic’s mind.”

 

The younger hunter shrugs but Bobby keeps talking, eyes narrowed at the messenger. “You’d better be here to tell me how you saved Mary and brought her back here. Right?”

 

“Well, no, that’s the thing. She got saved by someone else. Two someone elses, to be exact. Ganked all the demons, carried her off… I tracked ‘em to a hiding spot and then came straight here.”

 

Bobby scrambles to his feet, mouth open beneath his scraggly moustache. “Well, damn. Humans?”

 

“Yeah, new ones.”

 

“You didn’t recognise ‘em?”

 

“Nope. Looked like real good hunters though. Strong looking guys, good aim, good fighters. Clean shaven, not a lot of dirt on ‘em; they don’t normally sleep rough. Both tall, but one was like seven foot or somethin’. Both pretty cute too-”

 

“Yeah, yeah,” cuts in the older hunter, giving the smirking young woman an unimpressed stare. “Idjit.”

 

The woman shrugs, flicking her blonde waves over one shoulder. “Just reportin’.”

 

Bobby ignores her. “I reckon I know who these hunters are. Didn’t think I’d see ‘em back here again, but I sure as hell know who’ll be glad to hear about it. Go tell your Mom that you’re workin’ tonight and then meet me back here. We’re gonna go talk to these guys and I’ll need you to show me where they’re hidin’.”

 

“Yeah, OK. Hey, Bobby, can I have some of that scotch you were drinking?”

 

Bobby huffs, waving the other hunter out of the room. “Get goin’, Jo.”

 

Jo gives a sunny grin and saunters out. Bobby watches his door close and then carefully extracts the half-empty glass from down the side of his bed. He knocks back the remaining whiskey in one gulp and then stares at the wall for a moment, smacking his lips together.

 

“Idjits,” he mutters. “Got ‘emselves a nice apocalypse-free universe and whadda they do? Find a magic portal and come visit this shitshow. Yep. Idjits.”

 

With that, he moves out into the hallway. The building is small and squat, with only half a dozen box-like rooms arranged along a short corridor leading between a run-down communal bathroom and a cramped meeting hall of sorts. Most of the community lives in tents and huts grouped around it. Bobby, as a lead hunter, gets a room. So do Ellen and Asa, the other leads. Jo isn’t really supposed to get a room, but she’s practically usurped Ellen’s place within the past couple of years so no one in the camp seems bothered by her privileged position. The other two rooms are spares, mostly for lone rangers who drop by to exchange supplies and information. Gordon comes by a lot, although he usually sleeps in Jo’s room despite carrying out the pretense of dumping his bag in the larger spare room. But right now, that spare room is occupied by someone quite different.

 

Bobby knocks briefly but sharply on the worn, peeling door. “You in?”

 

There’s a rustling from within. “I am. Come in, Bobby.”

 

The hunter enters the small room, shutting the door behind him. He eyes the man standing before him, from the scuffed jeans to the over-large plaid shirt to the dull and weary blue eyes.

 

“Castiel,” Bobby greets gruffly. The angel nods once.

 

“Is something the matter?”

 

Bobby leans back against the door, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Got some news. Thought you’d be mighty interested.”

 

Castiel stands up straighter, steps a little closer, eyes brighter and more alert. “Is it about Lucifer?”

 

“Nah. Bit more cheerful than that, you might say. Remember those boys from your world? Mary Campbell’s sons, the ones she never had here. The Winchester boys.”

 

Castiel’s face tenses with pain and longing. He bows his head, drawing in a slow breath. When he speaks his voice is low even for him, barely audible. “Of course I remember Sam and Dean. They’re my family.”

 

Bobby cracks a small, rare smile. “Right. Well, I can’t be sure… but from what Jo’s said, looks like they’re here. Well, in this world.”

 

Castiel’s head whips up, shock suffusing his expression. “Here? Dean, Sam… here? No. No, they can’t be, Jo must be mistaken-”

 

“Hey, hey, I already said I can’t be sure, ya idjit,” Bobby says irritably, folding his arms. “Don’t get your wings in a twist. Jo saw Mary in some trouble with a band of demons, an’ she was about to go help when these two hunter-lookin’ guys showed up. They saved Mary an’ carried her off. From what Jo said, sounds like your boys.”

 

“Here…” Castiel breathes, stunned gaze drifting around the room. He sways a little on the spot for several seconds, lost in thought, before his eyes sharpen and snap back to the human. “I have to see them. If it is them. And if it isn’t, we have to know who has Mary.”

 

“Well, duh!” Bobby scowls impatiently. “Enough wringin’ our hands. Let’s get movin’.”

 

The angel sets his jaw, face hardening into determination. “Let’s go.”


	3. Chapter 3

Cas is almost vibrating with excitement, although it doesn’t show in his steady stride or his stoic expression. He keeps pace with Bobby, angel blade secured in his borrowed thigh holster, dirt smeared on it to stop it from glinting in the faint moonlight. Jo darts through the night ten feet ahead, silent and swift, hood pulled up to obscure her light golden hair. Demons have sharp eyes.

 

Jo halts. Holds up a hand. Bobby and Cas halt too.

 

She beckons them on without looking back and creeps over a rise, peering through some shrivelled bushes. The two men flank her, crouching down and eyeing the view before them.

 

“Idjits,” Bobby mutters. Jo murmurs agreement. A small campfire is clearly visible flickering in the woods below the small hill they’re on, even through the relatively dense trees.

 

“Sam and Dean would know better…” Cas mutters, disappointment rising like nausea in his throat. It’s not them. He never should have gotten his hopes up. He never should have hoped for it to be them in the first place. He’s lonely and selfish and weak.

 

“Yeah, well… if it is them, they oughtta know better than to come back here anyway,” Bobby shrugs. He turns to Jo. “I’ll go in direct. You circle around and wait on the other side, in case they ain’t friendly.”

 

Jo nods brusquely and Bobby peers back to where Cas is staring blankly down at the fire. “Castiel? You just stick around here, boy. You’ll hear us if we need you. If it is your boys, we’ll come get you.”

 

Cas would normally argue, would want to be the first line of defence, the shield to these humans who’ve taken him in as one of their own. But the certainty that it’s not Sam and Dean at all is loud in his mind and he can’t speak for the sour taste of grief in his mouth. He just wants to go home, to see them again, to be with his family and find out what happened with Jack. He wants it so much that he let himself get caught up in the fantasy that Sam and Dean were here in this grey wasteland. That was a mistake. It hurts. So he nods listlessly and watches Jo and Bobby slither down the hill, slow because Bobby isn’t as stealthy as he used to be unless he goes at a careful pace.

 

Turning away, Cas picks his way silently through the undergrowth and down the hill a little, leading off to the side. He quickly loses sight of the campfire but he knows it’s still close. He’ll hear if a fight breaks out and he’s needed. He just wants to feel totally alone for a moment, to ground himself in it and make it his strength rather than his despair. He used to be good at being alone. Now he misses Dean’s smile and Sam’s gentle voice and the warmth of having people truly know him. He needs to try to fix that about himself. He needs to make himself back into the angel he used to be, because otherwise the pain of missing what he doesn’t have will drive him mad.

 

“... gotta talk about it sometime…”

 

Cas stops dead, shoulders tense and eyes alert. The voice is hushed and coming from somewhere to his left. And it sounds almost like…

 

“Sam, I dunno what you want me to say. I miss him. I wish he was still around. There, you happy?”

 

Dean. Fuck, that’s Dean, that’s Dean’s voice-

 

“Of course I’m not happy. I’m grieving for Cas too. But come on, Dean, it’s different for you. What I’ve lost is not the same as what you’ve lost.”

 

Cas braces his hand on a tree, heart hammering. This can’t be real. Dean scoffs, sounding bitter and defensive.

 

“You want me to talk about what I’ve lost?” he hisses, voice still very quiet but sharp and angry. “I don’t know how, OK? You keep tryna get all amateur psych with me like this… who’re you really tryin’ to help? I don’t think it’s me. Yeah, I lost my… my best friend. Yeah, I’m not OK. You wanna talk about grieving? Why? You know all about grieving. We both know how it feels. I just didn’t think it would ever feel like… this.”

 

Dean’s voice cracks a little at the end. Cas opens his mouth, tries to walk forward, but he’s in too much shock. Silent tears are tracking down his face. His nails are digging into the tree beside him. There’s a short pause before Sam speaks again, voice thick and weary.

 

“So tell me what it feels like. I’m sick of watching you crumble away, Dean. Even here, even when we’ve got Mom back… it’s like you’re locked up inside your head. Like you… buried yourself with him, or something. It scares me.”

 

Cas screws his eyes up, pressing his lips together, his chest aching. Sam sounds so lost. Dean sighs heavily before responding.

 

“I know. And I’m sorry you feel like I’m not here or whatever, but ‘here’ is just… no. Not right now. Because Cas should be here too, and he’s not, and he never will be, and he didn’t even know how much I needed him to be. He never fucking got it through his thick skull how much he meant. I can’t stand that, Sam. God, he was so good. Brave and… and kind, always, like I could never be. I could never be that good. But he… he made me feel like I could be like him. Like I already was, like I was better than I am. And that’s what I lost.”

 

There’s a hollow silence. Cas drops his forehead to the tree that he’s leaning against, throat tight. He never would have dreamed that his relationship with Dean meant so much to the hunter. It meant everything to Cas. It still does. He swallows, raises his head and steps forward, only to freeze again when Dean continues in a dull voice.

 

“You wanna know what it feels like? You don’t need to ask, man. It was a long time ago, but you still say Jess’s name in your sleep sometimes.”

 

Cas shakes his head slowly, mouth slack. What is he hearing? What does that mean? Jess was Sam’s love. His greatest love. Cas knows this. Dean knows this. How can Sam’s grief for Jess possibly compare to what Dean is feeling over losing Cas?

 

“Dean,” Sam breathes shakily. There’s the sound of someone shifting and then the rustle of clothes and a puffed exhale. They must be hugging. Cas should probably hold himself back, wait for this intimate moment to pass. But he suddenly can’t wait any longer. He needs to look into Dean’s eyes and he needs to try to ease the pain he can hear in the voices of both brothers.

 

His feet are moving before he can think about it, and in five long strides he has rounded a large tree and is staring down at the Winchesters, huddled together between two overgrown roots and lit by a single phone screen.


	4. Chapter 4

Dean’s first thought is that he’s been drugged somehow, but he dismisses that instantly; Sam is the only person who could have done so, and he would have no reason to. His next fleeting suspicion is that a shapeshifter is standing before him. Or maybe a ghost. Can angels have ghosts? Can ghosts follow the living through portals into alternate universes?

 

That’s when he realises, when he’s already scrambled to his feet and is gaping at the figure before him. This must be alternate universe Castiel.

 

“What…?” exhales Sam from beside him, still on the ground. Dean swallows, gaze ranging over messy dark hair and solemn lips and chronically serious blue eyes. Eyes fixed on him.

 

“Hello, Dean.”

 

Dean’s brain short circuits. This is a Castiel who never knew them, right? So how does he… know them? The angel steps forward and Dean backs away, seized up and confused. Sam is on his feet too now, hands outstretched between his brother and the newcomer.

 

“Cas… is that… you?” he breathes. Castiel gazes heavily at Dean for a moment longer before wrenching his eyes away and focusing on Sam.

 

“Yes, it’s me,” he murmurs. “You seem to be under the impression that I’m dead? I take it that my alternate self didn’t survive in our world, then.”

 

Dean inhales shakily. “Alternate… self…?”

 

Castiel stares at him again. His voice is very soft when he replies. “Yes. The Castiel from this world. He took my place… dressed himself in my clothes, learned what he could of the situation and then posed as me. I stayed here. I’m… I’m so sorry to have upset you. This, none of this, was my plan-”

 

Dean’s mind tunes him out as it processes what’s happening here. This isn’t alternate Cas. Alternate Cas is who they watched die, stabbed by the angel blade that Dean now carries. Alternate Cas is buried by that house on the lake, under a mound of earth and the weight of Dean’s regret. This, standing before him, is not alternate Cas. It’s just… Cas.

 

Dean gives a low, strangled laugh and strides forward, tears wetting his cheeks as he pulls Cas roughly into a tight hug. The angel drags in a trembling breath and immediately wraps him up in strong arms, muttering his name reverently into his shoulder.

 

“You’re alive,” Dean gasps into Cas’s neck, screwing up his eyes and hiding his face. “Oh, thank God, thank you, thank you-”

 

“Dean,” Cas whispers again, voice cracking now, tears welling in his own eyes. “You and Sam shouldn’t have come here, but I’m so… grateful, I’m glad you did, I… I thought I’d never see you again…”

 

There’s a rustling in the bushes nearby and Dean pulls back sharply, hands still on Cas’s waist and damp cheeks almost brushing. He peers over Cas’s shoulder and a moment later, two gun-toting figures emerge. Dean squints at them, still breathing heavily, still half-focused on the angel in his arms who’s resting his forehead on his shoulder. Then Sam speaks, his tone incredulous.

 

“Bobby?”

 

The closest figure hesitates before stepping forward into the dim moonlight, the shape of his face becoming recognisable. Dean blinks, surprised. It is Bobby, the alternate version they’ve already met. Sam huffs, running a hand through his hair.

 

“It’s, uh… good to see you again…”

 

In that moment, the figure behind Bobby - smaller, slighter, tenser - moves forward, pulling the hood back from their head. Dean’s fingers convulse, clutching at Cas’s shirt; his throat tightens. Sam chokes on the words in his mouth.

 

Jo frowns suspiciously at them, eyes dark and hard. She’s as lovely as ever in the faint moonlight, older and more sure of herself than they ever got to see her. Dean’s heart aches, an echo of the way it broke when they lost Jo and Ellen; lost the last of their innocence and youth.

 

Sam takes a few stumbling steps towards her and is immediately halted by a raised gun and a snapped command:

 

“Stop right there.”

 

Sam looks down at the gun and then back up at Jo. Belated realisation dawns on his face, sad and drawn. “Right. Of course. You’re not our Jo.”

 

The Jo who’s never met the Winchester brothers squints warily at the younger man. “That I ain’t. I’m guessing you’re Sam or Dean Winchester? Probably Sam, if my memory’s right on what I’ve heard.”

 

Her gaze flickers over to where Dean is still partially wrapped up in Castiel’s hold, watching with wide eyes. “That must be Castiel’s Dean.”

 

Dean can feel himself flushing and he hopes fervently that the darkness can hide it. Giving Cas one last squeeze, he gently pulls free from the angel’s arms. Cas lets him go without resistance, but their eyes meet as Dean steps back and the hunter pauses, gaze steady and warm. Cas blinks at him and Dean finally looks away, moving towards the alternate versions of his lost hunter family.

 

“Yeah, I’m Dean,” he says gruffly, quietly. “It’s, uh… good to meet you. Cas has probably told you that you had another version of yourself in our world, and she meant a lot to us. So seeing you here is… kinda weird.”

 

Bobby snorts. “Weird, huh? We’re good at weird around here, don’t worry.”

 

Jo grins sideways at the older man, lowering her gun. “Yeah, we are. I guess I was good friends with you guys, huh?”

 

Dean shoots a glance at Sam and they exchange a tired smile before turning back to Jo. Sam speaks up, voice faint and shocked. “Yeah, it’s just… it’s so great to see you…”

 

She rolls her eyes. “… alive? Yeah, don’t worry. Cas here can’t keep a secret and he spilled all about our fates. Rough stuff. Almost makes me glad I survived to see this world turn to shit.”

 

She barks a humourless laugh at this; Dean and Sam exchange another look, pained this time. Bobby hefts his gun in a business-like way.

 

“So, where’s Mary?” he asks, looking between them. Before Sam and Dean can reply, Castiel speaks from behind them.

 

“She’s injured.” He crouches over Mary where she’s propped up in the shadows against another tree, half obscured by a spiky shrub. His fingers brush her temple and he grimaces; a moment later, Mary gasps awake, eyes bloodshot and face pale. She blinks up at Castiel, bewildered.

 

He collapses in a heap beside her.


	5. Chapter 5

“He shouldn’t have tried for a full healing. That was damn stupid of him. But that’s Cas, I guess.”

 

Mary’s tone is biting, but her eyes are anxious as she peers down at Castiel’s slack face, cupping it with a worn and dirty hand. Dean hovers over her shoulder, tense and breathy. She shoots him an unseen sideways eye-roll.

 

“Move back, Dean, he’ll be fine.”

 

With a grunt, she drags the unconscious angel up into a half-sitting position. Sam rushes to help her, beating Dean to it. They carefully lean him against the same tree that Mary herself was slumped against not two minutes beforehand. Mary stands up, dusting her palms off on her thighs, tipping her head back and breathing in a lungful of cool night air; Sam stays leaning over Castiel. Dean hastens to take his mother’s spot, gripping the shoulder of his unresponsive best friend.

 

“Why’d healing you mess him up like this?” Dean asks sharply, not looking away from Castiel’s sleeping face. It’s Jo who answers, surprisingly.

 

“Somethin’ to do with his grace being in the wrong dimension, or universe or whatever. He still has some powers, but they drain him so much they knock him out. He’s pretty much human here, sleeps and eats and stuff. He’ll come around in an hour or so.”

 

She looks oddly fond as she stares down at the angel. Mary heads over to Bobby with a weary smile.

 

“Hey, Bob,” she greets, touching his arm lightly. “Been a while. You spoken much to my boys? They saved me from a pretty nasty pack of demons. Think I would’ve been done for if they hadn’t shown up.”

 

The pride in her voice is obvious. His whiskers twitch and he nods once. “Damn lucky they were there to pull your reckless ass outta danger, if you ask me. Idjit.”

 

Mary laughs softly, shaking her head. She moves over to Jo and the two women exchange a brief hug and a wordless glance. Mary turns her eyes back to her three boys. Sam is watching Dean, and Dean is watching Castiel.

 

“He’ll be alright,” she promises quietly. Sam looks up at her and after a moment, Dean does the same. She nods, eyes soft. “He tried to clean us up after I arrived, after the whole mess with Lucifer, when we first got to Bobby and Ellen’s. Just scrapes and bruises and dirt, mostly. He did it, but… well, you can see what happened. He was up and about less than two hours later, totally fine. That’s how it is for him now. This’ll be the same, you’ll see.”

 

Dean glances back at Castiel and then nods, squeezing his shoulder once more before letting go. He clambers to his feet and Sam mirrors him; they both move towards their mother. She opens her arms to them with tears in her eyes.

 

“Thank you so much,” she whispers, pulling them both in. Sam rests his chin on her head while Dean closes his eyes, dropping his mouth briefly to her shoulder. “You saved me. You probably shouldn’t have come here, but God, I’m happy to see you again. It’s been so long…”

 

Her voice breaks and Sam pulls back a little to peer down at her. Dean does the same, concerned but confused. “It’s only been a week, Mom.”

 

She blinks up at them both. “A week?”

 

“Yeah…”

 

Bobby clears his throat gruffly and they both look over to him. He nods his head at Castiel. “He said this would happen. He was right, huh?”

 

Mary shakes her head in shock. “I… guess I forgot. A week?”

 

“A week,” Dean repeats emphatically. “Eight days, if we’re being pedantic. Why… how long has it been for you?”

 

“Um. Four months?”

 

“What?!” Sam almost yelps. Dean’s jaw has dropped. “You and Cas came here four months ago? No. No way.”

 

Mary shrugs, mouth twisting. “Cas did say that going through the portal was messy, and time got screwed up. Maybe not every time. When he first went through, he was here for a whole day. Barely an hour went by in our world. I guess it happened this time too. But… yeah, we’ve been living here for almost four months.”

 

Dean looks at Bobby for confirmation; he nods, eyes vaguely amused. “These two’ve really become part of our little community. Mary’s one of the best damn hunters we have, even if she don’t play too well in a team.”

 

He shoots a withering glance at Mary, who grins down at the ground. “Ah, I work best alone. Still check in now and then. Always good to catch up with Ellen, beat Asa at some darts.”

 

“I can kick both your asses blindfolded,” mutters Jo. Mary raises her eyebrows and the younger woman makes a face at her. It’s so clearly affectionate; both Sam and Dean wonder how they didn’t spot the closeness between their family and these alternate versions of their lost loved ones sooner.

 

Bobby jerks his head at the unconscious angel, still explaining how Mary and Castiel fit into their world. “An’ Cas here knows enough about angels to be helpful. Hand to hand combat ain’t bad either, and he’s good to have around. Decent kind of fella. Knocked himself out cold a few times healin’ injured hunters.”

 

Dean swallows and Sam eyes Castiel fondly. “Yeah, that sounds like Cas. So Dean and I… we’re too late to help out with the whole Lucifer thing, huh? What even happened with him?”

 

Mary exhales slowly. “Oh, yeah. Lucifer.”


	6. Chapter 6

“He was… angry. Really angry. He made this whole speech about… I don’t know, putting things right? Getting back to the nephilim, basically. I just stayed real quiet. He said he was going to trade me for his kid once he could find a way back through to our world. Then he said something about seeing how things stand in this world… like he had plans.”

 

Mary sighs and runs a hand through her hair, eyes troubled. “We ran into Michael, they had a fight. A big one. I got knocked out in the tussle. When I came to, they were both gone. I started walking but there was no one around. Didn’t take more than a few hours for me to run into some demons. That’s when Cas found me. He’d been tracking them, hoping they’d lead him to some hunters. Well, I guess they did. He rushed in, kinda like you boys did. Distracted ‘em enough for me to get the upper hand, then he finished off the one I missed. I say I don’t work well in a team, but Cas and me are actually pretty in sync. Must be a family thing.”

 

She smiles gently at Dean and then Sam before continuing with a shrug. “We carried on together. Gordon came across us the next day, led us back to base camp. That’s where we met Bobby, Ellen, Asa, Jo… the whole gang.”

 

There’s a short silence after Mary finishes. Sam and Dean both look nothing short of amazed. Dean is the first to speak. “All those people… they’re alive? All the hunters we know from our world?”

 

Mary glances at Bobby. He frowns at the boys. “We’ve lost a lot of good people in this war. But we look after each other an’ things’ve been OK lately. Lost Garth last year, that was hard. You ever get to know a Garth Fitzgerald IV?”

 

Dean’s face twists sadly and Sam drops his head. They both nod. Bobby sighs.

 

“Yeah. There’s less of us than there used to be, but more’n there might’ve been. Small mercies an’ all that.”

 

Jo huffs and lays her gun down by a tree, stretching. “This conversation is depressing as hell, and Garth would’ve agreed. Personally, I’m interested to get to know the famous Winchester boys. Heard so much from Mary and Cas, I don’t know what to believe!”

 

She grins cheekily at Dean, whose lips twitch with amusement. He regards her warmly, his voice soft when he speaks. “Famous, huh? I’m flattered.”

 

She winks at him and Sam rolls his eyes. Mary catches his gaze and smirks a little. Jo jerks her head back through the trees. “I got some more flattery for ya. Building that decoy fire was a good idea. Anyone in the area’ll go check that out first and you can wait here to check them out in turn. Smart.”

 

Mary grins proudly at her sons, who shrug modestly. Jo continues, hands shoved into her pockets. “Bobby and I can alternate watch while we wait for Cas to wake up, and then we’ll all head back to base. Yeah?”

 

Sam and Dean regard this older, confident Jo with raised eyebrows.

 

“Uh, sure,” Sam responds after a pause. “That works. Who’s taking first watch?”

 

Bobby harrumphs, hefting his gun once more. “Guess that’ll be me, since Jo wants to ‘get to know’ you boys so much. You watch out for her, though. Takes after her mother. She’s a charmer.”

 

Dean chuckles as the older hunter turns and moves off between the trees. “Don’t I know it.”

 

Jo rolls her eyes. “You know, Cas talks about you all the time but never mentioned you being this much of a flirt.”

 

This seems to shut Dean up; he blinks, cheeks warming in the cold light of the torch from Sam’s cell. The younger Winchester coughs a laugh before he speaks. “Don’t mind Dean, he can’t help himself. And it’s just damn good to see you again, Jo. Really.”

 

Jo smiles at Sam. “Thanks. I mean, this is really weird since I’ve never met you, but thanks. Shall we sit down? Got a lot of walking still to do once Cas comes to.”

 

They all settle in a little circle, Dean and Sam flanking Cas’s prone form and Mary sitting opposite, eyeing her boys with motherly satisfaction. Jo hugs her knees next to Mary, eyes alight with curiosity.

 

“So I already know roughly how we all met and how I died,” she began, prompting a wince from the brothers. “But what I wanna know is… was I a badass in your world too? Be honest. I can take it.”

 

Dean and Sam glance at each other, trying not to laugh. Dean replies, smiling. “Yeah, of course. I mean, you were inexperienced. But definitely badass.”

 

She nods seriously. “I figured. So tell me whether…”

 

They regale Jo with tales of their world for at least an hour before Bobby shows back up, grumbling that he needs to rest his sore knee. Jo goes to take her watch without complaint and the older man eases himself down next to Mary. He lets out a sigh and glances at Dean and Sam.

 

“You boys must wish that damn rift’d never opened.”

 

They glance at each other. Sam is the one to reply. “Yes and no. It’s been kinda catastrophic, but it also got Lucifer out of our world and away from Jack. And… we get to see you and Jo again.”

 

Bobby nods slowly. “Right. Yeah… huh, I can’t believe that thing actually calls itself Jack.”

 

It’s a clear attempt to duck an emotional moment; after all, Bobby still doesn’t know them but he must be picking up on the way they look up to him like a father.

 

“He actually does use the name Jack?” comes a voice from behind Sam and Dean. They both twist around to see Cas rubbing at his forehead, squinting at them with tired eyes.


	7. Chapter 7

“Cas!” both Winchester brothers greet in unison. Dean pushes up and scrambles over, landing clumsily next to the angel and pulling him into an unexpected hug. Cas grunts with surprise, but barely hesitates before slipping his arms around Dean and digging his chin into the other man’s shoulder.

 

“Hello again, Dean,” he mumbles, a smile in his voice. Dean pulls back and gazes at him warmly. Sam squats down on Cas’s other side and claps the angel on the shoulder.

 

“You worried us!” he admonishes gently. “No more passing out, dude. OK?”

 

Castiel smiles faintly at him and nods before scanning the small clearing. “I’ll do my best. Where is Jo?”

 

“Keepin’ watch,” Bobby replies. “You need some time or you ready to get movin’ straight away?”

 

“Give him a chance, Bobby, he needs to rest for a few minutes,” Dean answers firmly, barely glancing away from Cas’s face. He’s still gripping Castiel by the arm, sitting almost in his lap. “You OK, bud?”

 

“I’m perfectly alright, Dean,” Castiel assures the worried man softly. “I can get up, we can go. How long have you been here now? It’s unwise to stay still out here for too long.”

 

“Exactly,” says Mary grimly. She pushes to her feet with a sigh and helps Bobby up too. “Castiel is good to go, Dean, and so are the rest of us. Time we headed back to base where it’s kinda almost safe.”

 

“Sounds like home sweet home,” Sam snorts, shaking his head. Mary twists her mouth sardonically at him.

 

“’Bout as good as anyone can get in this wasteland. Come on, boys, form up. I’ll go get Jo.”

 

Dean fusses over helping Castiel to his feet, peering into his face and murmuring ‘steady, steady’ like the angel’s about to collapse. Cas smiles gently at him.

 

“I really am fine. You don’t need to worry.”

 

“Seriously, Dean,” Sam chimes in quietly, hands in his pockets and a softness in his eyes. “If Cas says he’s OK, he’s probably OK. OK?”

 

Dean seems to realise all of a sudden how spurious he’s being, how desperately he’s clutching onto the angel. He colours and steps abruptly back, shrugging and ducking his head. “Right. Yeah, just makin’ sure.”

 

Mary comes forward and squeezes his shoulder. “Come on, walk with me. Tell me what happened before I woke up here. You get hassled by any more demons?”

 

The trek back to the base passes fairly fast, with Mary chatting mostly to her sons, Jo listening to their conversations with interest, and Bobby and Castiel maintaining a mutual silence in the rear. There are long stretches of quiet when they have to flit across open patches of moonlight without much cover. Sam and Dean take in the dimly lit landscape with grim faces. It’s like someone’s held World War Three, complete with bombs and tanks, on the surface of the moon. Only the sparse patches of withered trees and spiky shrubbery make it look even slightly like Earth. It’s barren, beaten and utterly beyond repair. The boys shudder, understanding more and more how important their roles have been in preventing this future, how close they came to living this life.

 

A small group of angels show up when they’re almost back at base, moving up a rocky slope towards them, calling out for them to halt. Jo hisses for Sam and Dean to stay quiet and Castiel melts away into the shadow of a giant boulder beside them, hiding.

 

“Who are you?” the angel in front demands. Bobby steps towards him, hands up in a placating gesture.

 

“Name’s Bobby. I’m a hunter from around these parts. Chances are we’ve run into each other before. I run this area, just comin’ back from a scout around.”

 

The angel inclines his head. “I know of you. And I recognise one of your female companions. Are the other three hunters from your group?”

 

Jo, the one that the angel indicated recognition of, points to Mary. “This one is, Inias. Mary Winchester. But these two men are newbies. Travellers. We’re gonna take ‘em in and keep an eye on them.”

 

There’s something almost cautious in her voice, despite her confident stance and raised chin. Inias considers her and then nods. “Very well. On your way.”

 

The group of angels step aside almost as one to pass. Bobby leads the group past and Jo grins at Inias as she strolls close by him.

 

“Thanks, sweetheart,” she chirps, a wide and cheeky grin on her face. Inias regards her coolly and doesn’t deign to respond.

 

Sam and Dean stay silent until they’ve climbed back out of the small canyon where the angels still stand, discussing something amongst themselves. Once the group of hunters are over the rise and hurrying across the flat plain beyond, Sam speaks up.

 

“Do you guys answer to the angels, then?”

 

Bobby snorts. “They like to think that. Nah, we ain’t friends, we ain’t even allies. But it pays to be civil with the local troops an’ there were too many of ‘em to safely take on in a fight there.”

 

“They’re the official military in this war,” Jo explains in a hushed voice. “They think of us as the civilians, I guess, so generally they aren’t out to get us. But if they feel like we’re gettin’ in their way… well, let’s just say we’re fair game in their eyes. They’ve killed hunters before. They’re not well liked by most of us. Some of ‘em are assholes, some of ‘em are alright. Inias has a soft spot for me.”

 

Mary rolls her eyes. “Keep telling yourself that, Jo.”

 

Jo laughs quietly. “You’re just annoyed because that’s like, the third time he’s met you and he didn’t recognise you.”

 

“We knew Inias in our world,” Dean interrupts. “He was alright there too. So anyway, where’d Cas go?”

 

“He’ll meet us back at the base,” Bobby grunts, hefting his gun. “We’ll get there in ten.”

 


	8. Chapter 8

The base is almost silent when the group of humans finally reach it, situated in a scattered copse of twisted trees, the spike-topped wire fence made of a dull metal that doesn’t reflect the moonlight. Castiel waits patiently by the gate where he’s already identified himself to the two guards posted there. They won’t let him in without orders from one of the leaders. Most of the hunters still regard him with faint suspicion. He’s an angel, after all, not one of them.

 

He perks up, his tired eyes brightening, as he spots his friends winding through the trees. It takes another twenty seconds for the guards to see and hear the newcomers with their inferior human senses. Cas steps forward, gaze fixed on Dean with relief. He hated leaving his humans behind to avoid the angels in that canyon, but Cas’s presence at base is a secret.

 

“Cas!” Dean greets him in a loud whisper as they draw near. “Glad you made it, buddy.”

 

He steps forward and claps Castiel on the shoulder, expression warm and open. Cas smiles at him.

 

“You too.”

 

Bobby is talking with the guards, who quickly unlock the gate and usher the group inside. They cross the dusty yard to the main building. Most of the tents and huts dotted around are silent, but a couple have lights on and voices murmuring despite it being over two hours until dawn.

 

“Reminds me of Camp Chitaqua,” Dean mutters as they walk. Castiel glances at him curiously. The name sounds familiar, but he can’t place it.

 

“Hey, that’s where Gordon used to be based!” Jo whispers from behind them. “You know it?”

 

Dean halts as they get to a door and wait for Bobby to fumble with the keys. “Oh, shit, really? Uh, I don’t exactly know it in this world. Or my world. It’s a long story.”

 

They file inside. Sam yawns and that sets everyone off. Bobby leads them into the main hall where he, Jo and Mary put their weapons away on some shelves to one side.

 

“Man, I could do with a shower,” Sam sighs. He’s still splattered with dried demon blood. Dean is too, to a lesser extent.

 

“We have a couple of working showers,” answers Jo. “They’re up the far end of the hallway, the green door. There’s a shelf in there with some towels. Water pressure isn’t great but it does heat up and stay warm for a bit.”

 

Sam and Dean nod in unison. “Awesome.”

 

“Let your old mother use one first, OK?” says Mary with a tired smile. “I’m about to drop where I stand but I feel… ugh, pretty disgusting.”

 

Dean nods and waves his mother and brother off towards the door. “Yeah, yeah, you guys go first. Don’t use up all the hot water.”

 

Castiel watches Sam and Mary shuffle into the hallway, Mary already shrugging out of her jacket. Jo stretches, claps Bobby on the arm and winks lazily at Dean and Cas.

 

“Night, fellas,” she murmurs. “Good to meet you, Dean.”

 

Dean regards her fondly. “Yeah, Jo. Good to meet you too. Sleep well, OK?”

 

She salutes and leaves. Bobby hooks his thumbs into his belt loops and sighs as he looks at the two men left with him.

 

“Not sure where y’all wanna sleep tonight,” he says gruffly. His eyes dart between Dean and Castiel. “I imagine you boys’ll share. There’s only one spare room left though. Mary could bunk in with Jo if she doesn’t wanna share with Sam. Jo probably won’t even wake up to notice. Or, uh, I could bunk in with Ellen.”

 

Castiel smiles wryly at him. “Well, you spend a lot of nights in with her anyway. I doubt she’ll mind.”

 

Bobby scowls, the expression belied by the pink in his whiskered cheeks. “Yeah, yeah, guess I can ask. Well, I’ll go do that then. Sam or Mary can take my room and the spare one, whichever they choose. Let ‘em know, will ya?”

 

Dean mumbles assent and Cas nods. Bobby exits the room, head ducked. Cas sighs, watching him go.

 

“He and Ellen still seem to think it’s some sort of secret. It’s a little strange.”

 

Dean shifts, leaning against the wall, hands in his pockets. “Yeah, well, sometimes it’s complicated.”

 

Cas looks at him, tilting his head. He pauses a moment before replying. “True.”

 

Dean glances at the angel, bites his lip, looks away, looks back again. “I, um… Bobby seems to think we’ll be sharing a room. Your room?”

 

Cas nods slowly. “Yes, it’s my room. My bed.”

 

“Oh. Just… just the one bed, then.”

 

“Yes. Is that alright?”

 

Dean hesitates, eyes fixed on his own feet. “Is it alright with you?”

 

Cas steps closer. “Of course.”

 

Dean takes a deep breath and raises his eyes to meet Castiel’s own. “Then it’s alright with me.”

 

Cas moves another step closer, within touching distance now, but in that moment Sam sticks his wet head around the door. He’s only wearing his boxers but a damp towel is slung around his neck.

 

“Hey, guys, showers are free. Um, Cas, where am I sleeping? Mom’s in the spare room but she says that’s the only one.”

 

“Bobby’s room,” Castiel answers promptly. “Two doors up on the right. Sleep well, Sam.”

 

“Thanks, Cas,” Sam smiles warmly. He waves at Dean. “See ya in a few hours!”

 

Dean groans and tips his head back as his brother leaves them alone. “Shit, what time is it anyway?”

 

“Four AM,” Cas replies seriously. “Probably best if we have these showers fast and get to sleep.”

 

Dean sighs and pushes off from the wall. “Lead the way.”


	9. Chapter 9

Dean is trying not to stare.

 

It feels irritatingly prosaic and crude, to be checking Cas’s bare form out only hours after getting him back. Dean has been grieving for Castiel for a week, longing for him, despairing that he never got to tell the angel how he really felt. In all of that time, lust was the furthest thing from his mind. Dean had almost forgotten that part.

 

But now, standing in the shabby tiled room with only two working showers and bloodstains on the ceiling, Dean feels like a teenager. Hyper-aware of Cas methodically stripping off only five feet away from him. Watching the angel carefully fold the grubby jeans and crumpled shirts. Holding his breath as Cas slips the boxer briefs down over faint hipbones and rounded buttocks. Dean has still only gotten shirtless, too distracted to finish undoing his jeans.

 

Cas turns around, shamelessly full-frontal, and frowns at the human. “Dean?”

 

Dean can feel how red his face is going as he averts his eyes before he can get more of a brief glimpse. He mumbles a ‘hang on’ and quickly drags his jeans and underwear off in one. He can hear Cas moving away from him, turning one of the showers on. Dean tries to school his breathing, hopes fervently that the slight chubby he’s sporting will develop no further. This is so inappropriate. It feels disrespectful, somehow, even though Castiel is no longer dead. Wasn’t dead in the first place.

 

Dean steps into the shower stall beside Cas’s, turns the water on, waits for some vague warmth to come through. There’s a huge industrial-sized container of shampoo in the corner of the stall and nothing else. Dean pours some into his hand and lathers it into his hair, swiping the excess under his arms and between his legs. He’s just starting to scrub himself clean when Castiel speaks, voice echoing over the sound of the water.

 

“Dean, what were you saying to Sam before I revealed myself to you back in the woods?”

 

Dean pauses. Cas… revealed himself? What, like he’d been hiding and listening? Dean tries frantically to remember what he and Sam were talking about. It comes back to him quickly and he grimaces, uncomfortable.

 

“We were talkin’ about you. ‘Cause we thought you were… gone.”

 

Cas is silent for a moment before he speaks again, low and cautious-sounding. “You compared me to Jess. Sam’s Jess.”

 

Dean swallows. He rubs vigorously at his hair, sighs, stops, leans his forehead against the shower wall. “What are you asking me, Cas?”

 

“I just… didn’t realise I meant that much to you.”

 

Dean feels a lump rise in his throat. Suddenly he doesn’t give a crap any more whether Cas knows or not. Who cares? He trusts Cas to be there for him either way. He just doesn’t want to lose the guy again, ever.

 

“You mean more than I can say,” he says hoarsely into the tiles, eyes closed, one hand splayed beside his face like he can push through and touch the angel. “When I thought I’d lost you, I… I was a mess. I was plodding along, tryin’ to keep being me, but I was just… hollow. I need you. You know that.”

 

Dean isn’t aware until he’s finished talking that his voice is choked, tears mingling with the water on his lashes, his hand on the wall squeezed into a fist. He stays like that for several moments, trembling, waiting.

 

A wet hand settles gently on his shoulder. Dean gives a small, shocked gasp, flinching. The hand flinches too, but doesn’t pull away. Dean half-turns his head but keeps his eyes closed. He holds his breath, suspended in a maelstrom of aching hope and old, stagnant fear.

 

“Dean,” Cas mumbles. He steps closer and then closer still and he’s pressing up against Dean from behind, all warm skin sliding and hot lips pressing. He whispers it again, mouth on the human’s neck. “Dean…”

 

Dean breathes shallow against the tiles, head swimming. Both his hands are pressed to the wall now, fingers widespread and tense. Cas’s hands, by contrast, are ghosting slowly down Dean’s ribs and flanks, tracing his waist, closing on his hips and tugging him back to feel-

 

“Cas,” Dean exhales, sounding a little strangled. “Fuck.”

 

“Is this alright?” the angel whispers. Dean pushes back of his own accord and hums agreement, overwhelmed but fascinated. This has been overdue for years. It’s far more than alright. Cas breathes unsteadily into Dean’s ear.

 

“It’s just,” he murmurs, closer than he’s ever been, “part of me feels like this is a little prosaic to demonstrate what I feel for you, but I can’t deny the desire that is a part of that-”

 

Dean huffs a laugh and abruptly turns around, shouldering Castiel back a little and meeting his eyes boldly. Cas looks stunned, almost a little guilty, like he’s been caught misbehaving. Dean lays his hands on Cas’s arms, holding his gaze.

 

“I was thinkin’ the same thing before,” Dean admits with a small smile. “Of all the stuff I had to admit to myself and come to terms with over the past week, all the things I wished I’d had the balls to act on… none of it was to do with this, really. But it’s still something I want.”

 

Castiel looks captivated, blue eyes shining in the ugly fluorescent light of the shower room. “It is?”

 

Dean raises his eyebrows. He slides a hand down between them, moves that step closer to bring them flush against each other, so that he has to lean his chest back and tip his chin up to keep looking at the other man. Cas inhales sharply, still locked onto the human’s gaze.

 

“Clearly,” breathes Dean, the ghost of a smirk on his lips. Castiel opens his mouth to reply, but Dean kisses him instead.


	10. Chapter 10

It’s rougher than they would have planned it, if either of them had been planning anything of the sort.

 

Cas has Dean pushed up against the shower tiles to start with. At some point, without really meaning to, Dean manages to stumble Cas backwards into the opposite wall. The human’s hand is on both of them, fast and clumsy. There’s desperation in the air, replacing the thin steam from the water that is rapidly turning lukewarm.

 

Dean gasps and lets his head fall back as Castiel sucks a mark into his throat, strong hands squeezing and pressing at freckled skin. Their hips move in greedy little jerks and swirls, legs sliding wetly between each other.

 

“Shit-” grits out Dean, tensing and pinning Cas bodily to the wall, trying to arch away from the shower as the water finally runs cold. Cas wraps him in welcoming arms, but despite the body heat and the simmering desire, Dean breaks away to turn the tap off. He doesn’t hesitate before returning to Castiel’s arms and his mouth, licking at the seam of his lips, bodies rolling together.

 

It doesn’t take very long. Cas’s shower is still running in the background but with Dean’s stall empty of the sound of water, their heavy breathing and low grunts and moans are loud, almost obscene. Dean comes first, face buried in Cas’s damp neck, shaking with strain and whimpering with pleasure. His hands are braced flat against the tiles once more, framing Cas’s shoulders this time.

 

Cas waits patiently as Dean’s movements falter and slow, go from heavy grinding to lazy rocking. He noses at the other man’s wet hair and gently pushes him back, sliding a hand around to cup his neck and lift his head. Dean blinks dazedly, skin rosy and lips plush, as Castiel walks him back to hit the other side of the stall once more. Cas leans in and kisses him slowly. Dean doesn’t even register than Cas is finishing himself off until the angel pulls back and just stares at him, mouth hanging a little open, eyes dilated fully, bare shoulders flexing as he moves his hand rapidly.

 

“Cas…” Dean rasps, turned on but embarrassed by the intense attention. It feels somehow more intimate than having Cas jerk him off, standing there and having Cas jerk himself off while watching Dean watch him. But Dean’s voice seems to push the angel over some edge and Cas comes with a stuttered sigh, eyes closing. Dean jumps and blinks down at himself when it hits his stomach, sudden heat contrasting with the cold air. Well, shit. If Dean was managing to mentally shut himself off from any of what was happening, having come splattered onto him would have really brought it home to him.

 

But Dean is past the gay panic, he realises with a rush of relief. Losing Cas kicked him cruelly into a new sense of perspective. He doesn’t care about any of that any more. He just wants to keep the angel with him and never face a world without him again, no matter what that makes him or what anyone might think about it.

 

Cas has sagged forward and is resting his forehead on Dean’s shoulder, breathing hard. Dean smiles and pushes his fingers into Castiel’s thick, wet hair, squeezing droplets of water out.

 

“We need to wash off,” he murmurs after a moment. “But your shower’ll be cold too.”

 

Cas mumbles wordless displeasure and Dean chuckles. “Come on, Cas. Don’t wanna keep standing here.”

 

Castiel raises his head and meets Dean’s eyes, his expression tender and serious. He tilts his head. “Maybe I do. Maybe I don’t want any moment that’s not here, with you.”

 

Dean blinks. He has no idea what the fuck to say to that. Cas watches him for a few seconds and then breaks into a small smile. “But it is cold and wet, and we do need to wash off. You’re right. Let’s go.”

 

They troop into the stall that has cold water running and take turns wiping each other clean, Dean wincing and swearing, Cas grimacing in stoic silence. Then they’re drying off with the thin, rough, slightly off-smelling towels sitting on the shelf by the door. They’re wrapping the towels around their waists and bundling up their clothes, switching off the light and walking ten feet up the hall to Castiel’s bedroom. They get into bed in silence and both privately marvel at how easy it is to agree, without saying a word, that Cas will lie on his side and Dean will sneak in between him and the wall, snuggling up against Cas’s back and wrapping an arm around his middle.

 

“You know,” Cas says quietly after a yawn, “that was illegal here, what we just did.”

 

It takes Dean a moment to respond. “You mean, uh, two guys?”

 

“What? Oh, no,” Cas assures him, shifting and rubbing their cold feet together beneath the blankets. “I mean shower sex. It’s common practice for couples to shower together, to save hot water, but sexual activity is prohibited so as not to make the person or people in the other stall uncomfortable. And, obviously, to keep showers as short as possible.”

 

There’s a pause and then Dean begins to giggle, muffling the sound against the nape of Castiel’s neck, body shaking the whole bed. Castiel blinks in the darkness.

 

“Dean? Dean, it’s… is that funny? It’s not that funny. Is it?”

 

Dean only laughs harder, turning his face into the pillow now, and if maybe he’s actually sobbing with relief and joy and painful, ecstatic, dizzying love… well, Cas doesn’t have to know that.

 

Cas sighs, mildly exasperated. “Goodnight, Dean.”

 

The small window up near the ceiling is glowing with the first hint of dawn even as he says this. With a last hitching breath and a swallowing down of tears, Dean drops a kiss onto Castiel’s shoulder.

 

“Night, Cas.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed it! Either way, please leave a comment :)


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